


i wonder if he knows

by Hydra_Trash_Gal



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, HYDRA Husbands, HYDRA Trash Party, M/M, the writer apologizes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 07:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal/pseuds/Hydra_Trash_Gal
Summary: I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as they stop for cotton candy. He watches Winter pinch at the fluff and give him a wide eyed look before he asks if it’s food.





	i wonder if he knows

**Author's Note:**

> not beta-read, any mistakes are my own

Brock was good at smiling when he was breaking, at suffering quietly for the sake of a cause. 

A world of order, they told him. And order came from pain. Jack brushes their hands against each other, the highway stretching on forever until it vanished into the horizon. Each mile beneath the tires was nothing when escape was futile. Brock looks back. He doesn’t mean to, kept telling himself not to. Winter is looking out the window, eyes bright and smile sunny. He’s happy and he’s lucid. 

Brock reaches for his pack of smokes and sees the way Jack’s shoulders are slouching. 

Order comes from pain. 

The lighter takes two flicks and soon he’s got a plume of acrid smoke burning his lungs. He rolls down the window and watches the same fields flying past. Brock looks at the clock on the radio. 1100. That gave them 8 more hours before they would arrive.

“What do you want to do first Winnie?” Brock sounds cheery. He wants to throw himself from the vehicle. He wants to beg and make deals with a god who’s forgotten him far before now. Who couldn’t exist because of all the injustice done to Winter. 

“Agent Rollins says I can try ice cream before we get there.” Those big eyes, so trusting, held more tragedy than one man was meant to carry. “Is that okay Commander?”

The next cigarette drag is deep and it hurts. He nods his head and holds until it stop burning away his lungs. Then exhales the plume of smoke. “Yeah Winter. Whatever you want.”

Jack’s hand finds it way onto his knee and Brock holds it tight. He doesn’t want to. But he has to. Order comes from pain. 

•• •• •• ••

I wonder if he knows, Brock thinks as Winter devours a decadent sundae. His eyes light up and he asks if he can have some more another day. 

Brock looked down at his melting sorbet to hide the moisture in his eyes. Jack says ‘yeah Winnie. Whatever you want’. 

I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as they stop for cotton candy. He watches Winter pinch at the fluff and give him a wide eyed look before he asks if it’s food. 

‘It’s good Winter. Try some’ Brock says and he’s smiling like it hurts. Winter is too focused on pulling off wisps to notice the way Jack rubs the sleeve of his sweater over his face. 

I wonder if he knows, Brock thinks as they stand in front of the game. A pellet gun and balloons — nothing for a couple of Hydra agents. 

They win a stuffed yellow duck. Winter takes it as though it a priceless glass treasure. ‘For me?’ He asks with eyes shiny with tears. Both men nod. 

I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as he watches them go higher and higher. Dusk is falling and the park around them is a glittering wonderland. 

He hopes Brock holds his hand up there and tells him how great he is. He hopes that he doesn’t know. 

He knows, Brock thinks as they arrive. The cabin is secluded. Winter has been quiet the rest of the ride, curled up around the toy. The smile is gone. Brock feels the tears run down his face and tries to save face. Jack taps his shoulder. 

“Hey Winnie, how do s’mores sound?” Jack’s voice is thick. 

Winter looks up and if he knows, he’s okay with it. He smiles, heartbreakingly genuine. “Okay Agent Rollins.”

The crackling of the wood sets the soundtrack. Winter is still kneeling beside the s’mores stuff, carefully putting the chocolate and marshmallows between the graham crackers. Brock shakes his head and pushes the gun into Jack’s hand. 

Jack has expected as much. 

Order comes from pain. It is time for theirs.

Jack pulls back the safety and Winter stills. For a moment there is nothing. Time ceases to exist as everyone knows. No one can deny. “Can...can I try it first?” Winter doesn’t turn around. He means the s’mores. 

Brock sobs, ragged and utterly anguished. “Yeah Winnie, whatever you want.”

The sound of him chewing it is loud. He’s savoring it but not stalling. It hurts that he doesn’t even try to stall or fight. “Commander? Will you hold my hand?” Winter sounds so young. 

“Yeah,” he chokes out. “I’ll hold your hand.”

“And don’t let go please,” Winter is shaking a bit. “Until I’m gone.”

Brock is crying and it’s an ugly sort of cry. He wants to refuse.

Instead he takes both his hands, flesh and cold metal, sticky from the reside of the snack. Winter looks at him a moment, corners of his mouth twitching up. “Thank you. For making today so special.”

The stuffed animal is crushed against his chest and Winter’s eyes close. “Wait — ” Brock says as the gun fires. 

Jack is a perfect shot. Winter is gone by the time his body slumps forward. Brock cries and he doesn’t let go until Winter is cold and stiff and Jack has to drag him away. 

Jack buries Winter, an unmarked grave for a man who was no one. He stands there and wonders how long it will take Hydra to find them. He puts away the shovel and goes inside. 

•• •• •• ••

Brock has the yellow duck, toying with it absentmindedly. 

I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as he kisses him on the temple. 

Brock begins to cry again. Deep shuddering sobs that taper out slowly as he falls into a state of rest. Jack’s heart is heavy but there is a light at the end of the tunnel. He’s found their way out. 

I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as he makes him coffee. 

Brock drinks it and goes back to the bed. 

I wonder if he knows, Jack thinks as their bodies rub against each other in the pitiful hope that the friction of orgasm will lesson their suffering. 

He knows, Jack thinks as they lay with semen drying against skin. “Put me next to ‘im Jackie.” He says. “Please.”

Jack waits until Brock’s asleep and takes yet another perfect shot. He digs in the dark. He feels like he is dying already. He kisses Brock once, lips cold and rubbery and sets him down as gentle as he can with a body so weakened by loss. He covers him and goes inside. The bed is bloody. 

He sleeps on the couch. For two weeks he waits and thinks he hears Brock’s voice. 

He knows it’s time when the weather gets cold. The grass is covered in a layer of frost and he wishes Winter would have had a Christmas. 

He knows, moments before he takes a final perfect shot.

Now he knows nothing but peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.  
> It just kinda happened.  
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
